Review

BIFFY CLYRO

Singles 2001-2005

An encounter with my conscience…

So what brings you
here today?

It started when I was sent a review copy of the Biffy Clyro
early singles collection a couple of weeks ago.Since then I have been unable to think about anything but beginning to
review it.I try to be objective, but
there are just some things that bore into your soul and bring out this
irrational rage towards something that I should otherwise ignore.One of those things is Biffy fucking
Clyro.

And how long have you
felt this rage?

For a long time.I’m
not one of these who hates them because they’re massive.I’ve hated them for at least six years,
before the plaudits and Virgin Radio friendly MOR trash made them a load of
money and turned them into the new Snow Patrol.I remember ‘27’ the first time, and even back then I was astute enough
to earmark as Nirvana raping trash.That’s the problem, you see.I
hate British people trying to sound American.

And this is why
you’re angry with them?

No, no, that’s just the beginning.People tell me they’ve watered down in recent
years, but they were always pretty toothless; they just got given more money in
order to make blander albums.But from
the start they made vacuous derivative rock music that could only appear edgy
on a Top Gear album.Take one big ballad
of many, ‘57’ which is just playing on the popularity of the likes of
Soundgarden.This album just proves that
they were vapid from the outset – all faux-angst and tried and tested riffery.

I guess it all stems back to Stereophonics, really.They were a band I loved for a whole album,
and then they went and shat on with over a decades worth of abysmal
chart-fucking dross.It hurt.So I had a mistrust of rock bands anyway.

Nope – I just didn’t entertain the idea of them ever being
any good.‘The Ideal Height’ has a
painful chorus that even the most spineless of indie bands would balk at.It’s always been about teetering the near the
centre and producing something that neither fulfils a teenage mosher’s wet
dream nor the lighter waving rawk that your borderline alcoholic uncle will
love for decades to come.

Now you mention your
family…

Another time.I have
one nice thing to say.‘Toys Toys Toys
Choke, Toys Toys Toys’ descends in some quite enjoyable screaming, but it’s
just copyist and uninspired.There are
plenty of places to find this stuff done better.To describe a band as sub-Feeder is a pretty
ropey shout, but it’s true.They’re of
the same ilk.‘Questions and Answers’ is
one of the louder moments on this cash-in special, which collates all of the
singles from before most people gave a shit and when their old fans actually
thought they were worth a dime.If
anything, this proves that they’ve always been shit.The vocals sound consistently strained,
fluctuating from constipated to pained at any given time.The imagery is just Nirvana-chic bollocks –
life’s unfair and it makes me want to play my guitar really loud.Nirvana did it fucking well, this on the
other hand is completely contrived and devoid of any soul whatsoever.

Admittedly they have a balls out rock moment with ‘There’s
No Such Thing As A Jazzy Snake,’ which during the instrumentals is quite enjoyable.For the rest, just listen to Slipknot for a
more enjoyable but not entirely dissimilar experience.

So why do you feel
that has started to trouble you when it comes to writing a review?

Well to put all these things out on the internet – it’s a
bit spiteful really.I fear writing
something I’d regret – things that I’d say to my housemates but not necessarily
the general public.